Renewed
by autobotgirl12328
Summary: In the distant future, tragedy has stuck, leaving the earth's greatest heroes locked away for the 'safety' of the rest of the world. Originally voluntary, it soon became apparent that it was staged to eliminate the hero population. The rest of society has strict rules, preventing the resurfacing of superheroes in general, but as the typical story goes, justice never stays down.
1. Junk Yard Shift

Junk yard shift

Kendrick landed on the dirt with a thud, brushing up a new layer of dirt onto his boots. Grabbing his backpack off the ground beside him, he dusted off his shoulders and readjusted his jacket. It'd been a while since he'd gone scavenging but the necessity of new items was at an all time high. If he could just find the one part he needed to fix the town's generator the whole trip would be worth it. Being on the edge of the second, however, didn't leave much hope.

"Hey, Kenny, back again I see."

Kendrick snarled, rolling his eyes. The man who ran the scrap yard was a large assed man by the name of Scavenge Rot, aptly named after the strangely green moss like hair that grew on his right shoulder down to his elbow. He claims its a rash but no one really knew the truth. Aside from that, Rot wasn't the prettiest or the nicest of individuals. His hair had all fallen out, expect a slight strand that fell just over his unibrow. His teeth were beyond yellowing and were now turning a rotten brown, riddled with holes and blackened spots. Boil covered and with the worst attempt at facial hair, he looked like he acted: horrible.

"Kenny, my young solider!" Rot called from his watch post, waving a fat fingered paw at Kendrick.

"My name isn't Kenny!" Kendrick hollered back. "I'm just looking for parts!"

"Parts, you say?" purred Rot, stroking his triple chin. "You look like a strapping young lad…what it worth to ya?"

Kendrick grumbled, digging his hands into his pockets. He was one of the finer dressed individuals of Section C, but that wasn't saying much. Black pants with minor holes, old tennis shoes passed down for ages, a virtually destroyed tank top, and lastly, his finest item of clothing, a maroon colored jacket in almost good condition. Pulling his hand out, Kendrick held up an old paperback novel transcribed 2011. The cover was smudged and torn, making it nearly impossible to tell what the book was until one actually started reading.

"What is it?" Rot chanted.

"An old book! How should I know?" grinned Kendrick. Reading wasn't exactly common in District this far out.

"Well boy, toss it up," snapped Rot, motioning for Kendrick to toss it up.

Giving a mean wind up, Kendrick threw the book into the air, just shy of flying above the watchtower, and straight into Scavenge Rot's hands. The fat lard grinned, flipping through the pages and smelling them as the clacked together. Slamming the book shut, he glared down at Kendrick again.

"Whatchu lookin for, boy?"

"I told you, parts!" replied Kendrick.

"You best show me what you got before you leave, ya hear!?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," groaned Kendrick, heading into the yard.

The yard was the biggest this side of the Main River. It housed some of the oldest pieces of tech and aged collectables never before seen. When he was young, Kendrick would sneak in for fun and find what he could to play with. He wasn't crafty but he did know a thing or two about repairing the generators and lamps of the town, since his dad taught him at a young age. After his father passed, he became the resident repair man for the limited tech the town possessed. So, when something broke, it was his job to repair it or in this case find the parts and repair it.

"Hope this doesn't take long," sighed Kendrick, walking through the next stack of metal. "I can't believe this had to happen today of all days."

He stared up, watching the clouds roll in quickly. It wasn't often that the Endless Storm blew out of its designated area, but when the air gets too dry and the wind picks up, the storm spreads out rapidly. He had always wanted to visit the Endless Storm, but unauthorized travel between districts is forbidden this far out. He had heard it was incredibly dangerous in the nearby area, making it one of the deadliest districts in the area. Adventure was one of the greatest lures for Kendrick.

The brief glimpse of sunlight caught the surface of a piece of metal, drawing Kendrick's eye. He grinned, kneeling down beside the slickest little hubcap. He brushed off the dirt, letting it shine a little brighter just as the sunlight drifted behind the clouds again. He liked the shape of it, though it wasn't the piece he was looking for. Grabbing it tightly with both hands, he pulled, listening intently to the shifting of the metal in the stack. The tire piece moved gently then quickly flung out from its place in the mound. It flew from Kendrick's hands, crashing into the pile behind him.

"Well then," he grinned, rolling over and grabbing the piece from the ground.

Something else sparkled, catching Kendrick's eye. He froze in place, staring into the hole he had just created in the stack. Within the shadows, barely reflecting the light from the other piles, was another round object. Masked in the darkness, Kendrick moved closer to try and get a better look. The light faded as he approached but the object was imprinted on his mind. He needed it.

"Please don't kill me," whispered Kendrick, crawling into the hole.

The small round object was luckily not supporting any of the above metal, gently resting beneath a small ceiling of old parts and metal. Reaching in carefully, with one leg safely outside the pile for the best possible escape, Kendrick grasped the side of the object. It was smooth to the touch, the smoothest he'd ever felt. The back was ridged though, slightly rough and crusty. He yanked on it quickly, shoving himself out of the hole. The pile rustled and creaked with a few items falling off the top.

Kendrick sighed deeply, listening the pile rest into a blissful silence. He pulled the object away from his chest, looking at its rounded surface. Dirt and mud caked the surface, though on the back was worn leather handle, which was slightly big around Kendrick's arm. He shrugged it off, attempting to place it in his bag. It didn't fit. He groaned, pulling it. After a moment of thinking, he managed to attach it to the hubcap and connected it so that both hung on the back of his backpack. It wasn't ideal but it worked.

Moments of scavenging later, he still hadn't found the piece he was looking for and darkness was beginning to fall. Moving back to the entrance, Kendrick stopped by the watchtower, glancing up to see if Scavenge Rot was still up there. Having barely stopped, a spotlight lit up and illuminated the area around him. He could hear Rot snort with laughter.

"You still here, boy?" cackled Rot. "Whatcha find?"

"A hubcap," motioned Kendrick, pointing to the round object strung to his back.

"Whatcha gonna do with that?" snapped Rot.

"Haven't figured it out yet," shrugged Kendrick. "Maybe I'll return it."

"Don't return the junk," scoffed Rot, waving Kendrick away. "Get off my property before I call 'em Advocates."

Kendrick rolled his eyes, heading back to the entrance. Seeing as Rot was a sluggish lard, the main gate was rarely open. Instead, costumers would have to jump or crawl under the fence. Kendrick didn't mind. It was fun for him. Reaching the top, Kendrick sat and watched the dim light of the sun behind the clouds set. The sky seemed to set on fire, lighting up with reds and oranges with the dark blues and purples chasing them into the horizon. He smiled. Such a fleeting beauty.

District 109, Section C was not very impressive. The higher the district the worse the condition. The higher the section the worse the people's lives are. Kendrick lived in the farthest house from the main hall, which was a small brick building in the center of town. Surrounding it were small wooden houses, often one to three rooms. Kendrick's home was one roomed. It was all he needed being the only one in the house.

When the sun had set, the streets had cleared and Kendrick was the only one moving in the darkened streets. While crime in the area wasn't uncommon, it wouldn't take place during a night with the Endless Storm on approach. The wind was picking up, forcing Kendrick's collar to flip up and cover his neck. The solidness of the hubcap and the rounded object forced Kendrick forward, making it hard to walk straight. Eventually, he made it home. The wooden door wasn't much but it managed to keep out the struggling winds.

"Finally," sighed Kendrick, sitting on the only chair in the house.

Being only one room, the entire house was condensed. He had a minor stove in the corner nearest the door, with a chair just side it. His bed was opposite the door, head facing it. A bath bowl rested the corner opposite the stove. A small chest sat beside the bed, closed and locked.

Kendrick stood up, taking off his backpack, and throwing the hubcap into the corner by the chest. He dismounted his jacket, throwing it onto the chair. Kneeling down, he took the rounded object into his hand, brushing some of the dust off. The layer of mud, dirt and crusting paint was thick, making it impossible to break through without the help of water. Unfortunately, he didn't have much.

"Looks like this will have to do for now," sighed Kendrick, dumping the round object into the bath bowl.

He had tossed the old water out this morning and had not had time to refill it. What little water remained was dirty and muddy. Kendrick splashed the muddy water onto the object, digging into the dirt with his nails. The layers of filth slowly crusted off, revealing a layer of faded color. Kendrick stopped a moment, slowly moving his fingers down the red colored surface he had managed to rescue from the dirt.

"What…do we have here?" whispered Kendrick, quickening his cleaning.

He had broken three nails and rubbed his fingers raw but he'd managed to clean a majority of the dirt off. He panted, feeling the weight of his arms from the constant use. The howl of the wind outside echoed as he stepped away, covering his mouth. Impossible, he thought, sitting slowly in the chair.

The rounded object, now clear of dirt and muck, was red and white with a blue center and a large white star in the blue center. Though rough and beaten up from years or wear and tear, the color had remained barely faded and there weren't even dents in the metal's surface. Kendrick turned away, shaking his head.

When he was young, his father had told him stories about heroes, these larger than life people that risk life and limb in order to better the world. Kendrick always thought of them as just stories, even more so after his father died, but now, seeing this. He couldn't deny it. Among the stories his father had told was a man outside of time that wore a rounded shield of red, white, and blue. The description from his father's story matched the item that now sat in his house.

And he had no idea what to do about it.


	2. Starting Again

Starting again

The day started poorly. The wind from the previous night had managed to knock over two homes which injured 5 people and killed 3. Since Kendrick could not find the piece the day prior, the power was still out in the town, making mining impossible as well as production and some work nearby. No body held it against him though. Sometimes, the part just couldn't be found.

"Kendrick?"

Out of the whole town, there were probably 3 children under the age of thirteen. There was Marcus, who the was the son of the town's mayor; Clara, the daughter of the town's doctor, Dr. Smith; and the youngest was Marianna, who was the sole surviving child of the Maring family who had founded the town some years ago. Marianna, though occasionally ailing, was a playful child and knew the names of every townsperson. Her favorite person being Kendrick, her neighbor.

Kendrick turned around, kneeling down so Marianna could give him a hug. She was warm to the touch. Kendrick pulled away, patting her on the head with a smile. She smiled back, doing a small curtsey and showing off her new dress her mother had just finished sewing. It wasn't much but it was a vibrant blue which wasn't common to the area. He clapped lightly in response as she finished.

"Whatcha got there, Kendrick?" she hummed, pointing as his backpack.

"It's nothing," Kendrick quickly replied.

It had strapped the shield back to backpack, covering it with the old hubcap in hopes of returning it to the junkyard and forget this ever happened. Superheroes don't exist. They're just stories. Kendrick mumbled something under his breath, standing up tall again. Marianna looked at him with a questioning look. Then, the ground began to rumble.

"Oh no," gasped Kendrick.

"What's that?" perked Marianna.

"C'mon!"

Kendrick grabbed Marianna by the hand, leading her back to her house. The rest of the town was scrambling, moving items and fixing their outfits. Though appearances wouldn't help in this situation, it was the only time anyone from the Center came to visit. A rumor used to spread how if you looked the part you would be taken home with them and join the Center. It was a hopeful rumor though.

"Marianna!"

Her mother took her into her arms, looking wishfully up at Kendrick. He looked away, watching the dust of the approaching vehicles cloud their arrival. Everyone stood in a line in front of their homes, staring forward with blank stares. No smiles. No movements. Nothing. The cars came to grinding halt in front of the town hall. Three men exited the second it stopped moving, running to the back of the line of houses with strange little devices.

"Mommy, what are those?" mumbled Marianna.

"Don't move sweetie," purred her mother.

Kendrick watched as the men moved swiftly, almost like robots. A tall man finally exited the vehicle, drawing the attention of his men. The man stood tall above the heads of everyone with cold eyes and greasy black hair. Long legged, he moved swiftly down the line of people, looking them in the eyes. He went down the street then along the other side. Kendrick frowned, glaring at the man.

"I am agent Carson," he man cooed. "I will be your Advocate for today. These men and I will be doing the Mutant Gene test. As some of you know, this test will decide whether you have the capacity to be a mutant. All those with such gene will be…removed from the populous."

"What's a mutant?" Marianna asked quite softly. Nonetheless, the man heard her.

"A mutant, my dear child," he hummed, stepping dramatically before her, "are monsters. They aren't human. They're something else. I've seen some that look like dogs and others that look like fish even. The worst kind though," he leaned in for an even more dramatic effect, "the worst kind are those that look normal."

Marianna gripped her mother tightly. The man stood up, looking over at Kendrick. He didn't flinch. Carson scoffed, snapping his fingers. The other men dashed about, grabbing the hands of each person, drawing blood and scanning it for the mysterious mutant gene. A young man, who Kendrick knew as Ben, was pinged and dragged away. He kicked and he screamed but no one moved. No one could do anything if they tried.

"Mommy!" cried Marianna as one of the men took her by the hand.

Her mother kneeled beside her, holding her still as the man pricked her finger and squeezed until it drew blood. His little device took the blood and blinked a while before finally glowing a bright green. The man glared, tightening his grip on Marianna, dragging her from the arms of her mother. Marianna began screaming.

"No!" cried her mother, reaching out.

One of the other men held her back as they dragged Marianna off to one of the trucks. Kendrick stepped forward but another man held onto his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder, glaring at the man dressed in black. No one moved. Marianna's mother sobbed, collapsing under the weight of what was happening. Kendrick watched Marianna cry out as she was placed into the truck, the doors slamming shut behind her. She peered through the window. Her bright blue eyes were streaming tears.

"You can't do this," Kendrick snapped.

He felt the swift punch to his gut before collapsing the ground in pain. The two men laughed, walking away. Marianna's mother held Kendrick up. He snarled, glaring as the men left. The engines started, the dust kicking up into the air again. The townspeople began moving again, fleeing into their houses to mourn those they'd lost. Marianna's mother helped Kendrick stand up.

"There's…there's nothing we can do," she sniffled. "She has the gene…like her father."

"We can't just let them take her," argued Kendrick.

"This is just how things are," she sighed, entering her house.

"That doesn't make them right," whispered Kendrick, looking back at the vanishing trucks.

Kendrick's father had one secret that no one in town knew about. Before he'd passed, he had told Kendrick about it. Until now, Kendrick didn't see the practical use of it. Now, he was ready to give it a try. He placed his hands on the handles, tightened his grip and allowed the engine to kick on. It sputtered but continued to function. Kicking the stand up, revving the engine again, he took off down the dusty road after the trucks.

Looking out through the visor of the helmet, Kendrick gritted his teeth as he approached the vehicles. Spewing up dust in the dirt road, they had not noticed his arrival at their bumping along, Kendrick felt the shield on his back rub against his skin and thumping against his spine with each bump and dip in the path. With a deep sigh, he turned to the first car. There was only on chance.

Pulling the shield off its sling and tightening the bands around his arm, Kendrick steadied the bike as he stood up. The truck in the back held Marianna and the other mutants. The two trucks further ahead were merely for the personnel and soldiers. He had to do this perfectly or he wouldn't get another chance. Steadying one foot on the edge of the bike, he leapt forward, barely gripping his fingers to the edge of the truck's roof. His body hit the truck with a thud just as the shield attached to his arm hit the truck's wall with a loud clank. Voices began emerging from within.

"Dammit," hissed Kendrick, slipping gently along the edge of the truck, listening to the shield click along the metal frame.

He shimmed his way to the back of the truck. At that point, he realized he didn't have a plan for how to get in. He snarled his teeth, daring to lower one hand to the handle of the door. His fingers fumbled around the metal brace, feeling the wind wrapping around and howling along the sides of the speeding truck. Eventually, they made traction and clicked on the switch. Using a foot, he managed to lodge the toe of his shoe in the slightly opened door and kicked the door open. It swung open, banging on the side of the truck as it flung fully open.

"Don't let me die when I'm this close," whispered Kendrick, gulping.

He leapt down, managing to keep a majority of his feet on the truck's interior ledge. Feeling his balance swaying, his hand leapt forward and grabbed the remaining closed door. With a swift yank, he pulled himself inside, landing on one knee. He looked up slowly, feeling all eyes on him. Sat in the back of the truck were three people: little Marianna, Ben, and Conrad. Each of them were chained by their hands to the floor. Marianna's face was stained with tears. The other two looked mortified at the sight of Kendrick.

"Who the hell are you!?" snapped Conrad.

"Are…are you here to…" whimpered Ben.

Kendrick stood up, realizing his helmet was still on and that none of them knew it was him. He glanced behind him, watching the road reach out behind him. They were moving fast. His bike, which he had abandoned, was toppled and badly damaged far behind them. He turned back to the three.

"We're getting out of here," he announced.

He couldn't be sure why he said that, but it felt right.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" hissed Conrad. "We're chained in place!"

Kendrick stepped forward, directly in front of Conrad. The poor fool sat with his mouth open, mortified as Kendrick stood before him. Kendrick raised his arm up and brought it back down hard and fast, allowing the shield to hit the chains with a loud crack. The chain snapped clean. Conrad raised his hands up slowly, in complete awe.

"Like that," whispered Kendrick, secretly grinning beneath his helmet.

Kendrick turned around, freeing Ben and Marianna in a similar fashion. It took some time to remove the chain connecting their wrists, especially since Conrad kept moving in fear. Eventually, the three were freed, standing behind Kendrick as they looked out the back of the truck.

"They must know something's up by name," whispered Kendrick. "That door hasn't exactly been quiet."

"What now?" mumbled Marianna, grabbing tight Kendrick's hand.

"We jump," Kendrick nodded, trying not to sound as frightened as he was.

"Jump!?" gasped Ben. "That's insane! Do you see how fast we're driving!?"

"Would you rather stay on the truck?" commented Kendrick.

"So jumping, eh?" hummed Ben, looking down over the truck's ledge.

"Who wants to go first?" hummed Kendrick, looking between the group.

"Still pretty sure you're insane," mumbled Conrad. "But I'm not waiting around for the fools up front to catch on."

With that Conrad leapt from the truck, tumbling a while before stopping. He got up groggily, looking around. As soon as Conrad showed signs of life though, Ben jumped. He tumbled a while too, eventually stopping. Kendrick looked down at Marianna. She wearily peered up at him, tears till sparkling in her eyes.

"Come here," Kendrick pleaded, taking her up in his arms.

Spinning around, Kendrick leapt from the truck. He hit the ground on his back, letting out a scream of pain. Marianna tumbled from his arms, letting out a cry. The mass of the helmet hit the ground hard, colliding with the dirt road repeatedly until the visor cracked on the final tumble. Marianna spun to stop just within arms reach of him.

"Everyone alive?" Kendrick called out, sitting up.

There was only a groaned response but at least there were three.

"We need to move quick before they wise up," panted Kendrick, getting to his feet slowly.

"Give us a second," snapped Ben.

"We don't have the time!" howled Kendrick.

Darkness was coming and they were still far from home. The damage included Conrad's cut open head, Ben's broken leg and Marianna's broken wrist. Kendrick felt the blood trickle down his brow but at this point too much adrenaline was running through him to notice much pain. The group marched for a while before coming across Kendrick's bike.

"What is that thing?" grumbled Conrad.

"A motorbike," replied Kendrick. "It's a mean of transport…assuming to still works."

"That's how you caught up to us?" perked Marianna.

"And if it still works, it might be a way to get you lot home," sighed Kendrick.

"What?" gasped Ben. "I'm not riding that."

"You have some messed up priorities right now, Ben" snapped Kendrick.

"Who the hell are you?" questioned Conrad. "You're from our town or close by…"

"Now's not the time," Kendrick groaned, setting the bike upright.

He gripped the handles, kicking the starter. Nothing. He tried a second time, snarling and shouting slightly as he did it. The engine revved to life with a growl, slipping into a safe putter. Kendrick kicked the stand up and motioned for the others to hop on.

"One of you will drive, the other holds Marianna," instructed Kendrick.

His arms were starting to ache.

"It's real simple. Steering is just like a normal bike. Twist this for power. Keep balanced and you'll do fine," explained Kendrick.

His legs were hurting too.

"I'll…I'll drive," whimpered Ben, sitting on the bike.

"Hold onto Marianna," ordered Kendrick, pointing at Conrad.

Conrad took a hold of Marianna, sitting behind Ben. They looked up at Kendrick wearily. He nodded, turning away. The engine howled and faded. Kendrick turned back, watching the bike fade into the distance. He sighed, holding his arm. He felt the thickness of blood trickling down through his fingers. With his other hand, he ripped the helmet off his head and tossing it aside.


	3. Battle Damage

Battle damage

The trek home was long. By the time Kendrick made it back to his house the moon had long since passed the middle of the sky and was on its way to setting as the new day was coming. He stepped into his home, opening the door quietly and shutting it just the same. He groaned, lighting a lamp. The little room shimmered in the light, reflecting in the perfect surface of the water in his tub.

"I didn't refill this…" mumbled Kendrick, dropping the shield beside his bed.

His hand moved gently along the water's edge, feeling the heat. Warm water. He shut his eyes, feeling the heat for a moment before dipping his hand into the heat. It tingled. He grinned, quickly taking his clothes off. His shirt and pants struggled to come off, sticking to him by sweat, blood and dirt. Ripping them off reopened the caked closed wounds. A warm bath was just what he needed after a day like this and to clean the wounds he had managed to collect.

The water wrapped around his body, stinging along every inch. His teeth bit down on his lip, tearing through a small layer of skin. The slightly murky water was tainted with a pooling amount of Kendrick's blood. The heat soon became soothing, cradling him. His grinding teeth slipped free of his lip, letting loose a deep sigh. Relaxation finally settled in only to be shattered by a sudden knock at the door.

"A-a-a moment…" groaned Kendrick, slowly slipping out of the tub.

His body tightened up as soon as he left the safety of the tub. Each movement hurt, burning in his joint, and ridged movements in his muscles. He snarled, quickly staggering into a pair of pants. The warm water matched with the dry pants quickly wrapped around his limbs and stiffening his movements even more. Shuffling toward the door, he finally managed to open it.

Standing in the darkened morning was Mrs. Maring, the mother of Marianna. She was wrapped in a shawl, covering her little dusty outfit. A wisp of wind from the early morning spun in through the door, chilling Kendrick to the bone. He gritted his teeth, keeping his mouth shut in hopes of not frightening poor Mrs. Maring away. Somehow seeing how uncomfortable he was, Mrs. Maring quickly tore off her shawl and wrapped it around Kendrick's shoulders. She gently took him by the arm and pulled him back inside. The door shut behind them.

"Mrs…Mrs. Maring," sputtered Kendrick, pulling the shawl tighter. "What…what are you doing here? Isn't it early?"

"Thank you, my boy," she hummed, stepping up on her toes and wrapping her arms around Kendrick. "You are blessing on this town."

"I…I don't know what you mean," whimpered Kendrick, wincing from the contact.

"I had another bring the water in," she nodded, motioning toward the tub. "I've been up making you these."

She pulled out a tray of mini bread loafs from Kendrick's sole stand. He thought back quickly, trying to remember whether or not he had noticed those upon arrival. He sighed, feeling a minor tingling in his fingers. He was freezing. Mrs. Maring smiled lightly, messing with the shawl around Kendrick's neck so it snuggled him a little tighter. He offered her a stifled grin.

"I have warm blankets at my home," she whispered softly.

"Thank you," he replied, equally as soft.

"No, thank you…for bringing my little girl home."

Mrs. Maring's eyes watered as she pulled away from him. He nodded lightly as she walked away. His body ached and his eye lids drooped. He sat down in the chair beside the stand. His body slumped into an oddly comfortable position, eye lids closing surely and slowly. Darkness and bliss slowly enveloped him in a quiet embrace. The sound of the wind whipping around the walls of his home lulled him to sleep.

He did not hear the sound of Mrs. Maring returning and gently placing the warmed blanket over his weary body. Even in his sleep though, he felt warmth of the blanket on his aching body and calmed him into an even deeper sleep. Morning came and rolled into a young afternoon before Kendrick finally emerged from his home with crusty eyes and sore body. He peered his head of the door, waiting for the bright lights to dim into the blurry images of bodies. Without warning, the world snapped back into place and into a clear image.

"Kendrick!"

The noise was sharp for a moment but soon was recognized as human. Kendrick groaned, rubbing brow before stepped out of the house. Suddenly, there were hands upon him, sending tingling sensation across his skin that was oddly comforting and infuriating. He offered a polite smile.

"Kendrick!"

Conrad lunged forward, grappling Kendrick in a huge embrace. Every part of him screamed in pain. He grimaced, trying not to scream in pain. Conrad was pushed aside by Mrs. Maring, beaten three times over the head with a small pan. The man let a cry and wandered away. In the back of the crowd that was beginning to form was Ben who offered a tiny wave. With all the noise of the crowd, the day before finally hit Kendrick and he was at last awake.

"Wait…how did you all…" gasped Kendrick, stepping back.

"Word travels fast when we live so small," Mrs. Maring whispered. "My apologizes, my boy."

"Then…if everyone does know…" whimpered Kendrick. "Can I sleep some more?"

"You brought death upon us, boy!"

The crowd parted at the approach of one of the elders, an aged male who everyone just called Claus. He was a shriveled man, craned over his cane, with eyes so sunken into his head that they were nothing but darkness beneath his brow. He shuffled forward, clacking his cane somehow on the ground. He parted the crowd, scaring the people back into their houses, leaving only Claus, Kendrick, and Mrs. Maring.

"Don't start, Claus," hissed Mrs. Maring.

"He has brought destruction!" instructed Claus. "The evil will be upon us. No one will be saved now. Mutants and humans a like will be doomed because he could not accept the sufficient sacrificed needed to survive!"

Kendrick felt his skin crawl.

"You know nothing!" howled Mrs. Maring. "This boy has bright light back to our hearts! Light that was taken away by those evil beings from the Center!"

"You are nothing but a bitter woman! The rescue of one child will not return the lives of those lost!" Claus cursed, waving his cane.

Mrs. Maring's mouth hung open as her eyes began to water. When Kendrick was young, Mrs. Maring and her husband had given birth to young boy. The child didn't survive the month. The following child died during child birth. Afterward, Marianna's older sister died after two years, shortly before Marianna's birth. Before it was discovered that Mrs. Maring was pregnant with Marianna, her husband was found out to be a mutant. They took him away, and Mrs. Maring crumbled.

"Go, now," Kendrick ordered, stepping between Claus and Mrs. Maring.

"You think yourself a hero!" growled Claus, stepping back.

"The Center abuses us and mistreats us! We deserve justice!" shouted Kendrick.

Claus simply shook his head, shambling away. Kendrick turned around, embracing Mrs. Maring in hug. She nuzzled into him, breaking into a sob. He wanted nothing more than to cry with her. Every part of him hurt, his mind still tired, and everything seemed to be resting solely on him in a way that seemed impossible. He felt Mrs. Maring's body around his and the warmth she provided. He sighed, looking up at the clouded sky. Sunlight drifted in, glittering the clouds with silver linings. He shut his eyes gently. Darkness was coming. He could feel it.


	4. Wired

Wired

Benjamin Sallese was anything but simple and hardly one to turn away at the slightest hint of trouble. So even though the Advocate system had upgraded their online securities and began monitoring the feeds in the top Districts, he just readjusted his plans accordingly. Though it was hardly something be could do alone. Without Jay, lil Benji would've been caught ages ago.

 _~Benji, can I add something~_

"Jay, I'm working," grunted Benji.

He was in the middle of rewiring the main television's screen to feed into his tablet. Though normally it would be a piece of cake, tonight held extra guards around the square as the typically week long celebration was starting at midnight. This celebration was the anniversary of the founding of the Center and its government. Not everyone was pleased in this celebration. Over Benji's life he'd seen bombings, strikes, and devastation massacres. None of which frightened away the annual festivities, merely increased security on the event.

 _~Check your six. I got movement and heat~_

"I know what I'm doing Jay!" shouted Benji, fiddling with his tablet. "I will disconnect you."

 _~Quit being a brat, Bee. You know I'm right. You're pushing the limits here~_

"I found something new today…in the old records," commented Benji, ignoring Jay's previous comment.

 _~I can't believe your dad hasn't found you out yet~_

"I'm born on luck as my mother used to say," grinned Benji, pulling free the last wire he needed.

 _~So…what'd you find~_

"Iron Man," smirked Benji, connecting all the necessary wires into tablet.

The screens cut out for a second, but no one noticed it. The minor blip on the radar was quickly replaced by the image on Benji's screen, which was an exact replica of the usual drivel that was upon the main screen. Benji grinned, lip catching on his canine tooth.

 _~I see you're connected~_

Benji jumped to his feet, leaning over the ledge of the building. Down about seventy floors, people were scurrying to and fro in hopes of returning home or getting to work. He didn't understand the rush. It seemed like such a waste. When he was done with this, he planned on walking down that same street with a lollipop in his mouth, coat collars popped and a nose pointed at the sky. The autumn wind was crisp and spun around the air like falling leaves. Benji liked this weather above anything else. It was noticeable but not completely in your face about it.

 _~Iron Man, you got something~_

"I like that name," snickered Benji, sitting back down behind the ledge. "Apparently, according to the old files, Iron Man was this guy in a suit of armor."

 _~Like a knight~_

"No, like a soldier. He could fly and shoot lasers. Some of the pics are crazy but a lot of them are blurred or cut out. No fun, you know?" grumbled Benji, resetting the image on the main screen.

What normally planned on the big screen was merely a clock with such detail it went down from the year all the way to the second. Most people would glance at it without really taking it into account. When it suddenly became something else though, that's when people notice. Benji smirked, listening to the sound of cars stopping and people talking. A single change will bring conversation, the right image however will bring commotion and that's what Benji was looking for.

"Iron Man was a part of the Avengers," whispered Benji, resting his head back on the wall. "I wish they were still around, Jay…I really do. They sound so cool. So…unforgettable."

 _~Nothing but stories probably~_

"No…they're too good to be stories," Benji mumbled softly, shutting his eyes. "They're too real."

It was a moment of adrenaline, pure excitement mixed with content bliss. It shattered swiftly alongside the cry of alarms. Lights began switching on and Benji felt his heart leap into his throat. He choked on the fall air for a moment. Each screen baring the mark Benji so lovingly found among the old files was slowly being taken down, replaced with a completely black image.

"No!" shouted Benji, leaping to his feet.

 _~What? What is it? My screens are cutting out~_

"They're cutting everything…" snarled Benji, ripping the wires from his tablet. "I've gotta jet, Jay. Call you when I'm reconnected."

Benji swiftly tapped on the tablet's screen, turning it off. Shoving the tech into his bag and swinging it over his shoulder, he leapt down to the fire escape, sliding down the occasional stairs. He could feel his heart racing again, beating in his chest and pounding in his ears. Having moved swiftly down a majority of the stairs, he leapt off the fire escape and onto the neighboring building.

"What kinda night would it be without a little risk?" chuckled Benji, rushing across the building and leaping to the next. "I think I saw this on TV once."

Making his bound for the final building, his foot caught on the building's ledge, ending his momentum. He let out a scream, reaching hopefully for the next building. His fingered barely managed to grasp the building's ledge, forcing him to face plant the wall. His fingers slipped loose, dropping him onto the fire escape, still twenty floors above the street. He panted, holding his side and offering a raspy laugh.

"I…I lived…" he murmured. "Mom would kill me if she found out…but I lived…"

His fingers fumbled to grasp the railing, pulling him back into a seated position. He could see the alleyway's end and the silhouetted figures walking across the thin veil into the main street. Benji grumbled, pulling his hat from his bag and slapping it onto his head. His body ached lightly from the fall but he easily managed to move down the remaining stairs and onto the alley below. The sound of people and the sirens of police were growing louder with each step toward the light.

"I don't…even want to go out there," mumbled Benji with a sigh.

Crossing the threshold between the darkened alley and the brightly lit cityscape made a shiver run down Benji's spin. Now he was back to being Benjamin Sallese, son of an Advocate and the average kid everyone expects him to be. Assimilation, Benji thought with a sneer, or something like that. He stopped in the sidewalk, taking one last glance at the large screen looming over the square. Its dark screen was ominously void, leaving a sinister hole in the city's bright lights. This, somehow, made Benji grin.

"Knew something was missing," he chuckled, continuing on his way home.


	5. Empty Halls

Empty Halls

Benji's house resided near the heart of the city, rising proudly above those around it. It was three stories, white marble with grand pillars and masterful windows. To Benji however it was rotten slump with nothing but empty rooms. He came in through the back door, moving swiftly past the house keeper, Mr. Darkson, and up stairs. His room, or at least the one everyone would assume was his room, was located on the second floor near the east wall.

His room consisted of a bed, dresser, desk, couch, TV, and a small coffee table between the two. Benji hated ever inch of it. It was the room that made his parents happy and his keepers. It was the room of an ordinary, well mannered child of an Advocate. Benji slipped into his room, locking the door behind him. He quickly threw off his cap and jacket, making sure to slip off and back on his backpack.

"Scrap, gotta call Jay back," perked Benji, digging into his bag.

He pulled out a small headset, which he promptly placed in his ear. He snatched his tablet while he was in his bag then placed it back over his shoulder. Having all he desired and seeing how late it was, Benji began setting up the failsafe. This wasn't his most ingenious idea but it had worked many times over. Placing a few pillows under the covers, shutting off the lights and unlocking the door, it looked as if young Benji was fast asleep as he should be.

"Hate curfew," yawned Benji, moving to the far wall.

The Sallese household had been in the family for generations and thus had many secrets. One of the secrets was his father's basement, which had been converted into a bunker in case of emergencies. That was a common secret though, compared to the ever illusive secret passageways that ran throughout the manor. From a young age, these tunnels and halls had been Benji's playground, with few knowing of their existence and only Benji knowing their full layout.

When he had turned twelve, he had picked this room specifically for its secret passage entrance in the closet. This hall led up a floor into Benji's 'real room' which consisted of all his rather questionable hobbies. Having left his failsafe, Benji moved swiftly up to his secondary room. The room held computers, new sets of clothes, random scraps of tech, old folders, a target board, and some posters. Upon entering, the room would light up as best as it could from the light of the computer screens.

"I'm home," grinned Benji, leaping into his computer chair. "Log on!"

The computer swiftly reconnected Benji into his private chat room with his friend Jay. The two had met online a year or so ago and had been working together ever since, fueled by their mutual curiosity in the superhero lure the Advocates struggle to keep under wraps.

"Yo, Jay! You still on man?" hummed Benji, tapping his headset and wheeling to a different screen.

 _~Am I ever off~_

"True," smirked Benji. "I was thinking about switchin' up out codenames again."

 _~Didn't we just switch them~_

"Well…I mean, uh," mumbled Benji, opening up some files.

 _~You just want to be called Iron Man, don't you~_

"Kinda," Benji chuckled. "I've got a name for you though! Goes with Iron Man and everything!"

 _~What if I wanna be Iron Man~_

"Finder's keepers," hissed Benji.

 _~Fine. Give it to me~_

"Jarvis."

 _~Jarvis~_

"I'm gonna send you the files. You'll see," nodded Benji, moving his Iron Man file into the chat.

 _~How many uncovered files does this make~_

"Let me check."

Benji's father is what is known as an Advocate, a defender of the national public. These jobs can very from simple police work to above classified. Thanks to his father, Benji has met mutant trackers, genius inventors and historians, all who now work under the advisement of the Advocate system run by the Central Command. That wasn't the only gift his father gave him. The Advocates have a very advanced system to record and store information, traveling back years prior.

"I've got Iron Man, Nick Fury, Black…Widow," listed Benji. "I'm working on something now but the encryption is crazy tight!"

 _~Huh. Jarvis was the computer for Iron Man~_

"Sorry to demote you," snickered Benji.

 _~If we ever get caught I'm quoting you on this~_

"We won't get caught. Besides, I'm under 16 so they can't do much to me," shrugged Benji, sliding over to yet another screen to see how his encryption software was working.

 _~Bee…I mean, Iron Man~_

"Hmm?"

~Something bigs coming across the feed. Heavy encryption but I bet I can crack it tonight~

"Send it my way when you do," yawned Benji. "Man, its late."

 _~Doesn't your dad have that meet and greet thing tomorrow~_

"Scrap! I should get to sleep now or my dad is gonna kill me tomorrow," whimpered Benji, grinding his teeth together. "If you get that feed though…"

 _~I'll send it to you. Don't worry. It's probably some mutant thing~_

"I love a good mutant showing though," sighed Benji, stepping up from his computer. "Call you tomorrow, Jay…Jarvis."

Benji tossed his headset on the computer desk. With a large yawn that stretched over his face, he turned back to the passageways and made his way back into his room. After a clean change, he shoved the pillows out of the way and snuggled into bed. Tossing for but a moment, the adventures hours prior weighed him down into a lulled sense of peace. Having barely shut his eyes a moment, his door creaked over, allowing a sliver of light to break into the veil of darkness.

"Benjamin, you asleep, bud?" a voice whispered.

"Dad?" yawned Benji, sitting up.

"Hey, buddy."

His father was well built, dark hair and fair skin. Dressed in the dark Advocate uniform, he blended into the shadows and soon rested suddenly on the end of Benji's bed. The young boy rubbed his barely slept eyes and peered into the darkness in hopes of spying his father.

"How was your day? School go okay?"

"It was fine."

"I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up today."

"It's fine."

"You excited for the meet and greet tomorrow? All the other kids will be there."

Benji nodded to show he dad his excitement but he made a snarling expression in the darkness. The other Advocate children were older than him, but mostly they were crude, harsh and destructive. In the previous events his father had held, three rooms had been trashed by these children and Benji was left with the blame.

"Be on your best behavior, okay."

"Alright."

"Sorry to wake you up so late."

"It's okay."

"Sleep tight."

Benji felt the lightest kiss upon his forehead and weight from the end of his bed leave. The sliver of light coming from the slightly opened door flickered as his father's shadowed figure crossed over it. The door remained open a moment longer then shut with a shallow clank. Benji groaned, flopping back into bed. He was asleep within minutes.


	6. Wildfire

Wildfire

"Ms. Helvetica, please!" pleaded Benji, struggling to get away from the maid.

Benji hated when people came over. It meant that he had to get cleaned up and polished. It took three maids to pull him from the bed frames, afterward they would split up into the different areas. One took care of his clothes, which consisted of a clean tailored suit of baby blue and white ruffles. Another took care of cleaning up his face and hair, brushing his hair into a beautiful part down the middle which he hated more than anything. The final one would make sure Benji made it to the first floor without screwing up the others' achievements.

"We're almost done, young master," retorted the elder maid.

"Don't you look so neat," added the youngest.

Benji groaned, feeling the tugs at his hair and sleeves. While he loved having the company of Advocates and feeling the partially unobtainable knowledge sitting in his dinning room, he hated having to be prepped and cleaned just to simply be ignored and ridiculed by the boys of the other officers. Ranging from ages 16 to 18, the three other boys weren't exactly friends with him, not that he cared.

"You're all ready, young master," hummed the young maid, clapping her hands together.

"Don't ruin this, boy!" snapped the elder maid, gripping Benji by the ear.

He was ushered downstairs swiftly where his father was waiting for him patiently. His father was dressed nicely in a dark suit, smiling as Benji walked down the stairs. Everything looked so lovely, as if no one lived in this house for ages.

"Don't you look handsome," commented Mr. Sallese.

"I hate it," grumbled Benji, reaching up to mess with his hair. One of the maids quickly slapped it back down.

"Everyone will be here soon," nodded Mr. Sallese. "Are you ready?"

"Can I sit in on your meeting, father?" hummed Benji, rocking on his heels.

"Not quite yet, son. Maybe when you're older," sighed Mr. Sallese.

"What about the other boys then?" grinned Benji.

"Hmm?" perked Mr. Sallese.

The front door was opened by the doorman. The mighty frame opened wide, allowing three men in and their three sons. The older of the three men was Mr. Edward, the commander of the group of Advocates. His son was Andrew, the captain of the football team. The middle officer was Mr. Wright, a rather round individual with a growing beard. His son was Martin, a young scholar at the top of his class. The final officer was the young Mr. Raymond, who had only recently joined the Advocate unit. He was the father of Alexander, the captain of the baseball team.

"Welcome," greeted Mr. Sallese, ushering the guests in.

"Mr. Sallese," hummed Mr. Edward, shaking his hand. "Glad to be visiting your fine home yet again."

"Pleasure to have you," nodded Mr. Sallese.

As the officers spoke, greeting one another to their little meeting, the young adults circled around Benji. Being much younger then the three of them, Benji peered up slowly at the towering gentlemen. Oddly enough though, he grinned.

"Hello again," purred Benji.

"Hey brat," snickered Andrew. "Nice get up."

"Why thank you," growled Benji.

"What room shall we enjoy resting in today?" spoke Martin.

"Perhaps the parlor room or maybe the common area?" chittered Alexander.

"Boys!"

The four of them spun around, being called upon by their fathers. Mr. Edward snapped his finger, somehow convincing all four of them to stand neatly in a row. This made Mr. Raymond grin.

"Mr. Sallese brought up a great point for today's meeting," hummed Mr. Edward, motioning toward the dinning room door. "Seeing as you boys are young men now, it would be informative to bring you into the family business."

"But father!" gasped Andrew. "Don't the Advocates talk about rather important and secretive projects?"

"Naturally, but today's meeting is not as important as previous ones," nodded Mr. Edward. "Today is meeting informative on the previous events. Nothing classified or this discussion would be out of the questions."

"I understand, sir," saluted Martin.

"Suck up," snarled Andrew.

"Come boys, now!" ordered Mr. Edward.

"What about him!?" hissed Andrew, motioning to Benji.

"I am far too young to be attending such a meeting," purred Benji, trying to not grin at such the devious idea of keeping the teens out of his hair.

Andrew snarled, grinding his teeth. They followed their fathers into the dinning room, promptly shutting the door behind them. Benji groaned, rolling his eyes, and quickly ruffling his fingers through his hair in order to return it to its spiked form. He opened the suit's jacket, spinning around and moving back up the stairs.

"I'll be upstairs in my room," called out Benji, trotting up the stairs.

"Be well, young master," soberly replied the maids, watching their hours of hard work fade away.

Benji moved swiftly up the stairs, into his room, and traveled quickly into his secret lair. The computers activated with a hum, screens lighting up. One screen logged into chat, the other opened the Advocate security system, and the final screen went to a list of favorite songs that Benji enjoyed listening to while breaking into the Advocates older files.

 _~Glad to see Iron Man back online~_

"Jarvis, my computer friend, glad to be back," purred Benji, cracking his knuckles.

 _~How'd the meet n' greet go~_

"Still going on right now. Managed to lose the idiots and give me some time to have some fun," grinned Benji, activating his music. "I'm goin' for something good today."

 _~Can I make a suggestion~_

"Perhaps," scoffed Benji. "How do you even know what's in the system?"

 _~The news feed from last night, right. It wasn't a mutant thing…it was something else entirely~_

"Oh?" whispered Benji, glancing at the chat system.

 _~It was a rebel~_

Benji stopped, fingers mid typing. A rebellion was legend. No one could rebel against the system, the Advocates, the government! It was far too vast. At least, that's what Benji had always been taught. Being the son of such, he didn't exactly hear stories of rebellions or successful ones at least.

"A rebel…" whispered Benji. "Impossible."

 _~Check it~_

Images and documents appeared on his screen. Benji's mouth hung open, viewing a young man wielding a large round shield, face hidden under the visor of a motorcycle helmet. It was a fairly blurring image, obviously taken from the back window of a transport cruiser. It was somehow empowering and majestic. It put of a fire in Benji's stomach. A reason to stand.

"Where was this taken…?" Benji gulped.

 _~District barely on the map~_

"I know this simple, this shield," gasped Benji, turning back to his files. "I've seen it in some of the Avengers files! Iron Man…had something on it."

 _~See if you can find the real thing. According to these files, they're calling him the new 'Captain America'~_

"Captain America," repeated Benji, feeling the words upon his lip.

His fingers rushed across the keyboard, sneaking into the Advocate information system. It was easier with the Advocates currently logged on downstairs. The file system worked based on the files creation date. The newer the files, the easier it was to get into it. This was where Benji had found out about the Avengers and what led to the endless curiosity that sparked his minor acts of divergence.

"It's in deep…" hissed Benji. "Old file. Very old."

 _~How old can it be~_

"I…I don't know," grumbled Benji.

The name Captain America appeared in many files but wasn't the real thing. The more blips of the name, the more Benji wanted to see the real thing. Every sentence spoke of him like a legend, a hero and an ideal. He was justice, light, strength, an unstoppable force when started. It made his lip twitch with glee.

"Oh no…" gasped Benji.

 _~What happened~_

The system was beginning to work, following the traces of Benji's search and hunting him down. Benji snarled, jaw tightening. He could see the system moving swiftly, coming at him from all angles. He was slowly getting pinned.

"Jarvis, back up!" called Benji.

 _~On it~_

Just when it looked like he was trapped and caught, the system began to back off, spiraling away from him. Benji smirked, relaxing slightly as he entered the final layer of security into the last area of files.

"Thanks, man."

 _~Sent them on a wild goose chase. Should be interesting to see how it ends~_

"I think…I got it," whispered Benji, trying to contain his excitement. "The file…very old."

 _~How old. I mean the other files were real old too but…~_

"1940s," Benji offered. "That's when the file was generated. Digitalized sometime in the 20th century"

 _~Who was he~_

Benji downloaded the file, gawking at the images before him. There stood a young man with fair hair and skin, arms bigger than his fathers, and dressed in red, white and blue like something out of an old movie. Flipping through the old pages, he found the story of this man, Steve Rogers AKA Captain America. It was nothing shy of inspirational.

"He was…everything," breathed Benji. "He…is what we need right now."

 _~Now what~_

"Scrub the system," ordered Benji, hitting the print button. "I'm printing off the files I have."

 _~Iron Man, you crazy!? We were saving plan Dodge for way down the road~_

"This guy, this new Captain America, he's a sign! Something big is happening and I'm not sitting down while it does!" shouted Benji.

 _~I've got a little program…I wanted to try just for this occasion~_

"I've gotta wait for these files to print but…let's start lighting some fire works, eh?" grinned Benji, slipping out of the computer chair. "I'll call you before I jet and I'll hook up whenever I get the chance."

 _~If you ever find yourself in my district…~_

"Iron Man out."

Benji stood tall, exiting out of the chat and his music. He kept the Advocate system open for the sheer reason to see Jarvis' program take effect. The screen glitched, flickering between the system and a new image. Benji grinned, stepping away as the image consumed the system. The whole site was corrupted by the single image of an "A" drawn with such grace and purpose that even though few knew its history everyone could feel the strength in it.

Benji moved back through the halls, out of his room and back onto the main floor just as his father and the others stormed out in a huff. The group were arguing, yelling about the system being shot and the Avengers logo now taking out their system. The young sons chased after their fathers, pleading to be heard rather than accused of espionage. Benji grinned.

"Avengers Initiative…activate," he hummed to himself.


	7. Legend of the Storm

Legend of the Storm

Audra knew very little about the District nor the Section. She grew up in the neighboring districts, naturally, but the few sections that took up shelter around the Endless Storm seemed like a completely separate culture than her own. The weather, the houses, the agriculture, even the people were extremely different than anything she'd ever come across. Since she'd joined the Health Caravan, however, she'd seen so much more than she ever thought possible.

Some sections, primarily those closer to the storm center where the wind is strongest, believe that this storm is a sign from god, a spiritual force that can be a blessing or a curse upon those nearby. The people she worked with, patching up their cuts and scraps, spoke of legends and stories that all go with the storm. Few of them stuck with her but one fascinated it. She had gotten the story from an old man, who was luckily dying of old age.

"Listen, child" he spoke softly, patting her hand.

He was a wrinkled old man, pale faced, and hair barely sticking to his bald head. She knew he was in pain though. His eyes were the biggest silver with hints of blue. They reminded her of the sky on a cloudy day. It made her smile. So he smiled too.

"Have you heard the story of the Storm?" he asked.

"I have heard many."

"Are you familiar with mythology?" he questioned.

"There are so many," she commented.

"Have you heard of the thunderer? The lord of lightning?" perked the man, eyes shimmering.

"I'm familiar with the terms but I can't think of the name. I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Thor," the man instructed. "Norse mythology. He was the son of Odin, brother of Loki…"

"Very interesting," nodded Audra, patting a damp towel upon the man's brow.

"They are real you know. The gods of old. Thor was a great hero, fighting alongside Earth's mightiest." He coughed hard, sitting up slightly. He then laid back down. "These things are true. I was but a child…but I remember it."

Audra nodded lightly, as if listening to the ramblings of an old man. She'd seen it before from men younger than this.

"The storm, my child, I know…" the man spoke hushed, glaring right into Audra's eyes, "It is the work of the thunderer. Be it him or his hammer…I know the signs."

"Sir, you must rest," insisted Audra. "You are tired and weak."

"Only the worthy may wield it…" whispered the man, shutting his eyes.

His breathing shallowed. She turned away, listening to the breathing slow and slow and stop. His hand slipped free of hers. She stood up, stepping out of the hut and calling for the coroner. She didn't want to see them after they stopped breathing. She preferred life over death.

"Frevert!"

Her boss was a lean man like a twig with limbs, dressed in an oddly cleaned suit. His face was like a mountain side, ridged and carved with deep eyes. Audra wasn't completely sure that he liked her but on the other hand she didn't like him much either. He acted like he was above all those around him, especially the ill. It bothered her.

"Frevert! Has your patient passed?" hummed the man.

"Yes, Dr. Georgia," she replied.

"Then it's time for us to take our leave," he nodded, fixing his cuffs. "We're heading deep in now, closest section to the storm. So anything you got worth keeping best keep it on your person or tied down."

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

"Good. Now move," he ordered.

He left quickly, brushing off the mourning townspeople. Audra hated him. Nonetheless, she liked the idea of helping others at whatever cost. After all, life was worth preserving. She packed up her sleeping bag, hygiene bag, and her own notebooks which she eventually threw into the back of the truck. She was one of fifteen volunteers working under Dr. Georgia. They barely fit into the open back truck. Dr. Georgia drove with Michael, the longest volunteer, in the passenger sit.

Audra typically sat beside Denton and Carson. They both liked her but she didn't care for either of them. Dating wasn't on her mind. She preferred her work. Nonetheless, she enjoyed the challenge of watching the two fight for her attention. She hopped into the truck, sitting closer to the back of the truck so as to see the section for as long as possible. The children chased them, waving and cheering as they drove away. She smiled, waving back to them but she could not smile the way they did.


	8. Mjölner

Mjölner

Audra was wrapping up the limb of a mother when a call went out. When it started, the wind was far too loud to hear. This section was the closest to the storm, which could be reached by a simply job north and a small climb over a ridge. Why these people took up shelter here was beyond her. Nonetheless, eventually the cry of the people overtook the wind and she left the hut with the mother. Everyone was frantically running around, calling and crying.

"What's going on?" gasped Audra, grabbing the nearest person.

"A child…he's gone," the person replied, breaking free of Audra's grasp. "If we do not find him, the wind might catch him."

The loss of children was common for this area, just as their disappearances were common around the adjacent sections. Audra joined the search, running between the other volunteers. No one had seen what had become of the boy. Just as Audra had finished asking the last volunteer, a wailing cry emerged, louder than the wind and anyone else's call. A woman fell to her knees in the town's center, surrounded by a few children.

"What happened?" someone called.

"My boy…Andrew…" the woman sobbed.

"We were just playing," pleaded one of the children.

"We wanted to see over the ridge," the other added, pointing over the ridge which defended the village from the heart of the vortex.

"He's lost," one of the elders announced. "No one has come back from there."

"What?" gasped Audra. "Can't you go look, at least?"

"Traveling over the ridge is dangerous. As I said, no one has ever returned after being so close to the heart."

"I can't just leave him without knowing…without trying," whimpered Audra.

"Are you insane?" snapped Dr. Georgia, grabbing her by the arm. His grip was tight.

"If that boy is alive just over the ridge, it's worth looking," offered Audra. "I can't live with myself if I don't check."

"What part of 'no one comes back' are you missing?" he hissed.

"I'm sorry," whispered Audra, pulling her wrist from Dr. Georgia's grasp.

Her heart sunk as she began climbing over the cliff side. She could feel everyone watching her. Hands sweating, eyes squinted in the wind, and clothes bustling, Audra eventually reached the top. The wind was strong, almost forcing her to tumble back down the hillside. With one step, she gracefully slid down the hill, entering no man's land.

"Andrew!" Audra chocked, barely able to breath in gusts.

She struggled to take a step forward, guarding her face with her arms. Each footstep sunk into the ground, securing each step. The dust and sand whipped around the air, rubbing and tearing up her cheeks and blinding her eyes. She could hardly hear apart from the wind.

"Andrew!" she cried, hearing her voice spin around the wind.

"Help!"

It was faint and for a split second but Audra knew what she heard. A tiny voice. A cry for help. She continued pushing forward, until she stumbled. She fell forward, collapsing to the ground. While she was expecting to be whisked into the wind, she was surprised to find the wind and howling was gone.

"Help!" the voice was clear this time.

Audra lifted her head, looking around. Everything was quiet and calm. The eye of the storm, she thought, slowly getting to her feet. The sky, a bright blue, could be seen when looking straight up, and the ground was an oddly lush green with meadow grass gently flowing. In the very center of the this oasis was a small stone stand with a large hammer placed at an angle on the top. Andrew was clutching it, peering up at Audra.

"Andrew!" she gasped, kneeling beside and hugging him.

"Who are you?" he whimpered, pulling away.

"I'm Audra. I came with the Health Caravan," instructed Audra. "Your mother is really worried about you."

"How do we get out of here?" he sniffled. "I barely got in here."

"Me too," sighed Audra, looking around. She stood up. "What is this?"

She rubbed her hand along the metal of the hammer. It was smooth, clean cut and beautifully engraved around the edges. The handle was wrapped with leather, clean and hardly worn. A leather strap was connected to the handle, flopped over due to gravity. It was magnificent though oddly placed in this storm's center. She rested a hand on the hammer's stone.

"Whoa…" Andrew hummed.

The hammer's side was glowing, specifically words that appeared on the side. They were beautifully cursive, wonderfully written. They glowed bright, shimmering in the wind wrapping around them. Audra pulled away. The light faded. Audra quickly turned back to Andrew, who was still sobbing lightly. To be honest, she wasn't sure what she was going to do or how they were going to get out of here. The wind was powerful and dangerous, no doubt easily able of ripping them from the Earth and never to be seen again. She couldn't risk Andrew's life on such a stupid plan.

A unsettling chuckle began rustling in the wisp of the wind. It echoed around them, gently surrounding them until a group of tan clad men encircled them. Audra knelt down, grabbed a hold of Andrew, and stepped back to the center. The group snickered, baring teeth and eyes glimmering in the dimming sunlight.

"What do we have here…?" grinned one, dressed differently than the others with the addition of goggles, a arm guard, newer boots, and sash across his chest holstering the gun on his back.

"How did they…?" whimpered Andrew, holding onto Audra's hands.

"We're the Wind Riders," howled one of the men but he was quickly silenced by another soldier.

"Whatcha got on ya? You look well made," hummed the boss. "Hand it over and we won't kill you before the storm does."

"I'm a doctor! I don't have anything on me!" shouted Audra, stepping back into the hammer's stone. "Please, I'm just trying to get this kid to safety."

"Oh a good Samaritan," shrugged one of the men.

"Got any good drugs?" perked another, looking twitchy.

"I don't have anything!" pleaded Audra.

"We'll be the judge of that," snarled the boss, stepping closer.

"No," whimpered Andrew, nestling his face into Audra's stomach.

"I'm not going down…" Audra whispered, looking around. She caught sight of the hammer's handle. Moving without thought, she wrapped her fingers around the handle. The side of it glowed again. "Without a fight!"

For that single moment, the wind went quiet.


	9. þrymja

þrymja

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Audra felt her heart pounding in the silence. Her dark hair spun around in the wind, wrapping around her head and neck, flickering at her nose. Something else was wrapping around her, bellowing by her legs and stretching from her shoulders. At first, it felt unnatural, but then the rest of her body seemed to recognize a change in her apparel. A shimmering armor chest-plate connected to the bellowing crimson cape, black pants that stuck to her skin, silver boots, and a helmet that rested comfortably upon her nose. She felt the hammer's strap around her wrist, though the hammer itself seemed almost weightless in her grip.

"What…" Audra whispered, looking up the center of the storm.

The wind was slowly, growing tighter around them. The clan of bandits stepped backward as far as they could, staring in awe at the newly clad Audra that stood before them. They slipped on their survival attire. Andrew held onto Audra's leg, peering up at her.

"How…How'd you do that?" he whimpered.

"I…I don't know…" she replied.

Something rose in her heart, a desire and a plan. She raised the hammer into the sky, feeling the energy flow through it was such power and ferocity that it made her fingers tingle. The wind wiped around it, howling and cracking as it faded away as it contacted the hammer's stone. With a shrieking cry, the storm vanished, leaving the landscape barren, apart from the running bandits. A lull fell over the area, expect for the murmur of the town over the hill. Audra took a breath, filling the void of sound.

"How'd you do _that_?"

"Is that…" One of the bandits murmured.

"No way…this is some kinda trick…" hissed the commander.

The other bandits nodded, charging forward. Andrew's fingers clutched tighter to Audra's left. Audra leaned forward, helmet tilting downward slightly as if it were ill-fitted. Her hand was still wrapped around the handle, remaining raised into the sky. She bared teeth, glaring up at her weapon. Sparks began glittering off of it as the sky once again darkened. A crack echoed as a shimmering strike of lightning connected to the hammer. Andrew looked up, eyes widened. The bandits stared as the lights danced across the sky to Audra, frozen in their tracks.

"I didn't sign up for this!" howled one of the bandits.

He dropped all his things, racing off across the desert. Listening to the snapping of lightning, a few others ran, leaving the leader of the bandits standing alone. His goggles reflected the blue hue of the light. His mouth hung open. Audra lowered the hammer, pointing it at the commander. He stepped back, mouth still hanging open. The sounds of the village grew closer as people emerged from the ridge. A mob of people stood, peering down at Audra and Andrew. A hush fell over them, returning the area to silence.

"Are you ready to face this or are you going to run?" instructed Audra.

The commander snarled. The lightning continued to crack, illuminating the silver metal with a blue shine. The leader frowned, shaking his head. He grinned, looking back up at her.

"So…legends are real…" he chuckled.

He ran, following the fading figures of his crew. Audra sighed, lowering the hammer to her side. The powerful glow faded. The crowd of townspeople watched her in awe, murmuring between woman spoke up, crying out and stepping forward. Andrew cheered, running to her. They embraced, sobbing as they are reunited. They only paused a moment to look back at Audra.

"The storm…it stopped."

This phrase whispered over the crowd wildly. Audra looked around, recognizing the absence of the once grand storm that swept across the land. The sudden thought before had allowed her to silence the endless storm. Perhaps another will spring up and give her a new ability?

"Thor."

She perked, turning back to the crowd. The elders of the village began speaking up, mentioning the 'Thor' between themselves. Audra remembered the story she had heard before from the village over. The legend of Thor, the god of thunder. This must be his hammer, the power from another world. They were calling her that. They were calling her Thor. She didn't know if it was fitting, but it somehow seemed right at this moment in time.

"Let's try…something new," she grinned lightly, looking up at the hammer again.

She gave it a gentle swing, releasing her grip on the handle to hold onto the strap. The wind wrapped around it and she felt her feet gently leave the ground. With a mighty thrust, she stopped spinning, launching the hammer into the sky. She followed suit.

She was flying.


End file.
